


Touched

by thinkwinkink



Series: Just A Touch [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Fluff, Making Out, Marichat, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, adrienette - Freeform, i am so problematic??? just reordering the chapters willy-nilly, will add more tags as they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkwinkink/pseuds/thinkwinkink
Summary: Various scenes following Just A Touch, since it seems some people are interested as to what happens next.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette return to school after finding out The Big News, and face Alya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by lil_fangirl27 who asked to see some reactions to their soul-matedom. Gabriel's reaction and maybe others yet to come.

Marinette was giddy as she walked next to Adrien on the way back to school. She was fighting a mega-watt smile as they walked the streets. The high school campus was a few blocks from her house, so these were her last few minutes alone with her real, genuine, actual soulmate. She shoved her hands into her robin-egg-blue coat to help resist the temptation to reach out and touch him. She sneaked a glance up at him, just as he turned to smile down at her.

His gorgeous green eyes were swimming with happiness as they met hers. She couldn’t help but let out a giggle. He let out a quiet laugh too and knocked her arm with his shoulder playfully.

“Alya is going to freak out,” she sighed after a moment.

“Alya has probably been freaking out for the better part of an hour,” he pointed out. “But who knows, maybe she’s calmed down.”

Not likely. Adrien knew Alya, probably knew she would be _very_ excited that either of them had found their soul mate, maybe knew that she had hoped they would belong together. Adrien did not know that she had invested years in trying to get the two of them to go out. Years of pent-up frustration and planning were finally over, and she had no idea how it had happened. For all she knew, she had walked in on their regular Thursday afternoon closet make-out.

“Maybe,” Marinette echoed dubiously.

He laughed and nudged her again. He was walking so close to her that their sleeves brushed together. She tentatively, and with as casual an air as she could muster, removed her hands from her pockets.

The backs of his fingers brushed against her wrist, accidentally, at first, but then he brought them around to trail down the inside. He gently caressed her palm, and without daring to look at him, she twisted her fingers through his. It almost seemed stupid to be so nervous about holding his hand when he had already kissed her, but a first time doing anything was intimidating. Not to mention a first time involving anything to do with The Adrien Agreste.

When they arrived at the school, they still had several minutes before class, and wandered around in search of Alya and Nino. They didn’t find them, so much as Alya pounced on them from behind as they walked across the quadrangle.

Marinette let out a shriek as a weight slammed into her back and dug its fingers into her shoulders.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, how long have you been holding out on me?” Alya demanded, sounding scandalised.

“Like two hours, I swear,” she replied eyes wide as she refused to look over her shoulder.

Alya came around to stand in front of her, arms crossed. She eyed Marinette, then Adrien who was blushing slightly but also smiling, and then Marinette again.

“I need to talk to you for a sec,” she declared, grabbing Marinette by the hand and attempting to tug her away. She was stopped short after two steps because Adrien still gripped Marinette’s right hand.

There was pregnant silence for a second, before Adrien let out a laugh.

“I’ll see you later,” he said to both of them, ducking down to brush his lips against Marinette’s with an achingly gentle touch. “I’ll go find Nino.” Then he was gone.

Alya hauled Marinette around the corner, only stopping when they were between the bike-shed and the dumpsters.

“What. The. Hell,” she exploded. “What the hell did I miss? How are you now kissing Adrien? You couldn’t even maintain eye-contact yesterday! Or was that all a front?”

“You missed this,” Marinette said before she could go any further, holding out her hand for her inspection.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, examining the mark closely. “When did you get this? It looks new.”

“It is. And I don’t even know, I didn’t see it until this morning,” she shrugged hopelessly.

“When did you tell him? I’m so proud of you, girl, I’m almost surprised you had the guts,” she said ruefully. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Er, haha, about that,” she coughed. “Actually, he got his when I accidently tackled him, and he asked to talk to me at the end of class and I said okay and he took me to a closet and it was on his _chest_ and then he kissed me and I died.”

Alya blinked at her rushed recount, then burst out laughing.

“Oh, man, I should have known. Of course neither of you can do anything within a reasonable time limit,” she chuckled, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I am so glad it happened for you, though. I’ve always said you two would be perfect for each other.”

Marinette sniffled, squeezing her tightly. The emotional turmoil over the last few hours had been intense, even if she was getting everything she had ever dared to hope for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not long after finding out they're soulmates, Adrien and Marinette have a study date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess these will be quite out of order?? oh well lmao

It was more than hot as summer approached in Paris. It was sweltering, humid and far warmer than it ought to be at that time of year, but for students undergoing their final exams at school, there was no opportunity to relax or loiter in the ice-cream aisle.

This boiling hot Thursday found Adrien Agreste lying on the floor in the bedroom of his girlfriend and soulmate. Normally, he would be practically purring. Allowed out of the house freely, having Marinette to himself, and doing something so normal as hanging out in someone’s room. The hot and sticky breeze coming through the windows which she had opened in an attempt to make the room more bearable was making his concentration waver and his clothes stick to his body.

He was lying on his back with his knees up and shoes discarded, too hot to be sit upright and wishing she had floorboards instead of carpet.

She was testing him on his French material, making him dredge up random quotes and arguments to fit the list of sample questions she’d found somewhere online, but he interrupted before she could ask him something else.

“Mari, it is so _hot_ ,” he groaned. “I can’t even think straight.”

“Are you drinking enough water?” she asked, her voice concerned but laced with the same languid irritation everyone felt when it got hot enough.

“Yes, and I’m sweating it all back out. This is so gross I almost wish I was still at home,” he complained, flopping an arm around dramatically.

Marinette giggled at his antics, then rose from her seat. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, then disappeared into the main room below.

He lay there, splayed out and perspiring, blowing slightly damp hair off his forehead. Had he not been in a rush, he would have styled it up and put some product in it to keep it off his face and sweat-free.

He roughly jerked a hand through his long fringe, shoving it roughly back and probably making it stick up at odd angles. He sat upright and unbuttoned the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. The white cotton with blue patterns had looked like it would keep him cool when he had put it on in his blissfully air-conditioned room, but he was now all too aware that there was no item of clothing under the punishing sun that was equal to that task.

He propped himself lazily against the chaise longue, flapping one side of his shirt to and fro to provide a cooling breeze.

Marinette returned with an adorable smile and a pair of icy poles, but froze when she saw him. She stared, and he stared back, faintly embarrassed but not completely sure why. Her eyes ran over his chest for several seconds before she visibly shook herself and walked completely into the room.

She handed him one of the ice creams and flopped to the floor, pulling her French notebook off her desk.

He unwrapped his treat and took a small bite, eying her. She had the tip of the cool snack at her mouth as she leafed through her notes with an almost studied nonchalance. Her face was a bit red, but it was hot enough that that may not mean anything.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“I am,” he replied. “Am I bothering you?”

“No,” she answered, turning the page and not looking up from her book.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Marinette?” he asked more seriously. She looked up, eyes wide.

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” she stuttered slightly. “It’s just, I don’t really see it. This is only the second time. It’s just still a bit surreal.” She made a vague gesture towards her chest, which was more on show than usual in the tiny shirt she was wearing for the hot weather.

He frowned at her words, not knowing what she meant, until it twigged. His soul mark. Which was usually hidden beneath his shirt.

“Oh, of course, right,” he laughed, his hand brushing against the skin over his heart. Her eyes followed his movement with a strange expression that he couldn’t place. “I guess you’re right. I see it every day, and yours is always visible. That never really occurred to me.”

She nodded, stopping her staring to lick the last of her ice cream off the stick, tossing it into the bin under her desk. She was distracted from her awkwardness when it neatly dropped in, indulging in a satisfied fist pump. He lobbed his own in, bouncing off the rim but toppling in all the same. He stuck his tongue out at her when she threw him a superior look.

“I’ll try to spend more time with my shirt off in future,” he said solemnly, earning a high-pitched squeak and a little spluttering.

She calmed herself down and went back to resolutely staring at her notes. He frowned. He gently pushed the book aside and slid forward to sit right in front of her. She nervously looked to the side.

“Marinette? You really don’t seem very comfortable right now, and I don’t want to make you feel uneasy, especially in your own house,” he said, brow creasing as he tried to bend into her eye-line. “What can I do better?”

Her eyes snapped to his at that. “There’s nothing that you need to do better, Adrien,” she insisted. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Then what’s the matter?” he pressed.

She looked keenly embarrassed, covering her face with her hands. Her reply was slightly muffled when she spoke.

“This is so humiliating, but I guess you should know,” she groaned. She dropped her hands with a defeated air. “Come here.”

She got to her feet and pulled him upright, leading the way to her closet. She rifled around at the bottom, behind several shoe boxes with loose pairs lined up on top. She emerged, cringing with an unremarkable shoebox, which she offered to him.

He took it, glancing warily at her mortified expression, before lifting the lid. He blinked. It was full of magazine clippings. Shuffling quickly through, he quickly realised that they were all photos or articles or little notes, all of or about him. None seemed very recent, his face rounder and softer than in was in recent shots.

He looked back at Marinette, who was watching his reaction through a gap in her fingers.

“What is this?” he asked.

“I… sort of… kept a bit of a collection on you. Not recently! Like, in collège. I stopped because I knew it was weird and a bit creepy. But I kind of had a huge crush on you and it was really bad and I followed you around a bit,” she blurted out.

He blinked at her.

“You stopped, but you still have a secret box full of pictures of me?” he asked, supressing his smile.

“It seemed like a waste,” she defended. “I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to throw them out. I told Alya I would when she helped me take them down, but in the end I just put them away and decided to leave them there.”

“Take them down?” he repeated, eyebrow raised.

“They were stuck up on the walls,” she admitted in a tiny voice, grimacing at her feet.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He closed the box and placed it on the floor with care. Then he pulled her forward into a tight embrace, lifting her off the ground. She gasped and clung to him in return.

“Thank you for showing me, Marinette,” he murmured into her shoulder. “That you cared about me, so much and for so long, means more to me than you can ever know. I wish I had known sooner.”

She let out a shaky laugh.

“I was worried you’d think I was a crazy stalker,” she said, relaxing into his hold when it became clear he didn’t intend to put her down any time soon.

“It shows you care,” he disagreed. “And you never did anything malicious, so I don’t think you were being possessive or anything.”

She hummed in response, allowing his point.

“Besides, I’m sure I spent ages reading the Ladyblog and a million other articles about you when I was younger. Or going through every photo people tagged you in on Facebook,” he admitted.

She was silent at that, and he put her down in order to see her face. She was blushing heavily, and she looked up at him with disbelief spelt out across her face.

“I might have had a pretty big crush on both sides of you,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Her face cracked into a luminous smile. She got up on her toes, stretching up to kiss him. He leant down to meet her, tenderly fitting his lips between hers. He ran his hands around her waist, her cropped shirt letting him feel the skin there. She shivered and kissed him more animatedly, pulling him down closer with fingers wound in his hair.

He took a few steps back, pulling her to the chaise longue. He sat down and she knelt on the cushioned surface to bring their faces level. She returned her lips to his, biting gently on his lower lip and making his fingers clench into her hips where they rested.

Her hands drifted down, over his shoulders and onto the uncovered skin of his chest. She rested her palms flat against him, then pulled back slightly. They were exactly where they had rested when she had fallen on him that fateful day at school. Her fingers completely covered the mark on his breast.

That strange emotion was there in her gaze again as she looked at her hand over his mark. He caressed her cheek gently as he tried to work out what she was thinking.

She met his eyes, and the burning intensity in her look drew him in utterly.

“I love you,” she said, and it sounded like a promise and confession at once.

Love blazed in her honest expression, and she couldn’t have been more perfect in that moment.

“I love you,” he choked out in response, gathering her in his arms as she ran her fingers through his hair. It was more than worth the heat to be close to her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir are #spotted. Chat Noir has a word with Marinette. A few weeks after the initial reveal.

Marinette awoke to the unwelcome ringing of her mobile phone at nine in the morning, on a Saturday. During the exam period, there were no classes, and she had the chance to sleep in. Or should have, if her best friend had the right amount of respect for the sacred nature of weekend sleep-ins.

With a groan, she half-flopped out of bed to answer it.

“Hello?” she mumbled groggily.

“Girl! You are not going to believe this!” Alya’s excited voice came through the speaker. “Have you been on the Ladyblog since ten last night?”

“Of course not,” she frowned. “You woke me up just now.”

“Oh my God, open it up right now and swap to video so I can see your _face!_ ” Alya squealed.

With a groan, Marinette dragged herself out of bed and down her ladder to switch on her desktop. She propped her phone up and swapped to video chat. Alya’s smug face filled the screen as she waited.

She rubbed sleep from her eyes while she waited for her browser to open and hit the bookmarked link to the Ladyblog. The headline of the latest post was emblazoned across the page.

_Heroes’ Romance Revealed: Dynamic Duo of Paris Platonic No More!_

“What,” she said flatly, face blank. How on Earth did anyone know that she and Adrien were involved? Or rather, that their alter egos were.

“I know! Suck it, Mari! You always doubted me, you said they weren’t together and they never would be since _college_ but look at that! You were wrong!” Alya crowed, but Marinette paid her no attention.

She scrolled down the page, skimming the text, to examine the photos cited as evidence for the claim.

As usual, there were action shots of Chat and Ladybug racing over rooftops from various angles and locations. Nothing incriminating there. Then, a few photos that were taken from a somewhere like a balcony or rooftop afforded a decent view of the two of them mostly sheltered from view by a steep roof and a chimney.

Ladybug leaning against a chimney while Chat Noir leant down over her, apparently talking.

Chat tilted backwards dramatically with his hand over his heart in a pantomime of pain.

Her doubled over in laughter.

Her patting his cheek as he stood.

Him ducking down to kiss her tenderly.

Several more photos of them kissing, thankfully fairly innocently, against the chimney stack.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, hoping she wasn’t blushing. They hadn’t meant to let people catch onto their relationship as heroes, but they’d felt hidden, they’d felt safe, and she couldn’t resist him, especially when it was all so new.

“You really seem shocked, Mari,” Alya laughed, cutting through her reverie. “Are you mad that your number one chum, Chat Noir, didn’t tell you himself?”

Alya knew that Marinette had spoken to Chat a number of times over the year, since she faithfully related all their interactions to her hero-news-thirsty best friend. Marinette’s meetings with Chat were a safe way for her to support her friend’s interests.

“I don’t know, I just never thought they were like that. I’m a big believer in strong friendships not needing to have a romantic dimension between people of different genders. But good for them, I guess,” she shrugged.

“You owe me a cheeseburger,” Alya said.

“What?”

“Like, two years ago when I was obsessed with those burgers from that place near the library, you bet me a cheeseburger that they were never going to happen.”

“What? No way am I honouring a deal that old! You haven’t even gone there in like a year!” Marinette protested.

“Too bad. Want to meet up tomorrow? We can study for a few hours at the library and then you can buy us lunch,” she grinned.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll meet you outside at eleven?”

“Nine thirty.”

“No chance. Quarter-past-ten,” Marinette countered.

“Deal,” Alya agreed. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” she smiled, ending the call. She sat back and looked at the photos. She was annoyed with herself for getting caught on camera, but she had to admit that they were kind of good photos. Adrien’s jawline was always sharp, but the curve of his neck into the strong line of his jaw, throwing a stark shadow as he tilted his head to kiss her accentuated it perfectly. They weren’t pressed up against one another, only their lips and hands touching, but there was something pleasing to the eye in the way he curved into her space. Particularly pleasing to her eye, she imagined.

She wondered what he was up to right now.

She sent him a quick text to ask and then ventured downstairs to find breakfast. Since her parents were both downstairs in the bakery, Tikki was free to float over to the TV and watch _60 Minute Makeover_ in peace.

When she went back upstairs, the blinking light on her phone alerted her to his reply.

_Job for H &M’s summer campaign until 10, then probably study. Hbu?_

_Attempting to study :/,_ she replied, and then set about her English work. Her spoken second-language skills were good for both German and English, but her English vocabulary was going to ruin her mark even if her spelling weren’t so bad. The fact that her teacher had admitted that English spelling only followed rules half the time hadn’t so much consoled her as enraged. Like most major languages, they ought to standardise and sort out the disaster of a writing scheme they had going on, and preferably before her exam in a fortnight.

She’d been scowling at her textbook for a fair while when a bang made her jump in her seat. A streak of black dropped through the hatch to her balcony, and then Chat Noir was strolling across her bedroom like he owned the place.

“Good morning, Princess,” he grinned.

“What are you doing here?” she laughed as he squeezed her in a tight hug from behind her chair, the glossy material of his cat-suit sliding against her exposed arms.

“You weren’t replying to my texts,” he complained.

She always set her phone to silent when she was studying, but she flipped it over to see four unread messages from him.

“Sorry, I was actually working,” she said, reaching up to pat his head. “How was the gig?”

“It’s not actually that warm outside, so a bit chilly,” he replied, repositioning himself to brace his forearms on her shoulders and look at the work spread out on her desk. “Are you making headway?”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” she scowled. “Forget that for a second. Do you know why Alya woke me up this morning?”

“Nino’s blender incident?” he guessed.

“What? No. Tell me about that in a minute,” she said, bemused. She wiggled her mouse to wake up her computer, the Ladyblog still open.

He was silent for a second, then snickered. “So much for keeping it private.”

“Adrien! This is totally your fault,” she chastised.

“I recall asking permission, Mari,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, well, it’s your fault for being so irresistible,” she countered, crossing her arms.

He stepped back and spun her desk chair around to face him. She was blushing slightly, but managed to keep her miffed expression in placed. He crouched down to bring his face level with hers.

“Irresistible, hmm?” he echoed. “Awfully big accusation, there, Princess.” His voice was low and thoughtful, with a playful edge that made her want to drag her gaze over him, but she continued to stare at the wall with her chin up. He ran a claw along her jawline and she shivered.

“Very bold thing to throw about, Marinette,” he continued. “More than a little hypocritical.”

He leant in, the tip of his nose brushing under her jaw, where his finger had been, as he spoke. He placed a kiss against the sensitive skin there. She let out a shaky breath and turned to face him.

She was inches away from him, his luminous green eyes heavy lidded as his gaze ran over her face. Suddenly, he pulled her chair towards him just slightly, enough to connect his lips to hers. Her arms came around his neck and his went around her waist. The last time she had seen him, they hadn’t had the same sense of total privacy afforded by her bedroom, and his kiss had been sweet but brief.

This kiss was intense, his lips working against hers and his tongue sliding against her lips. She opened her mouth more, experimentally returning the gesture. He seemed quite affected by that, his grip on her tightening and passion increasing. She let out a quiet moan at the sensation of his mouth sliding against hers paired with the kneading pressure of his strong hands on her hips.

Panting, his pulled back, only to kiss down the side of her neck. She gasped at the new sensation, tilting her head back instinctively to allow him better access. He sucked gently at the skin there, and her hands buried themselves in his hair.

He returned to her lips to give her a slower, lingering kiss, and then wheeled her chair back slightly to meet her clouded gaze.

“I have to go,” he whispered. “I’m meeting Max and some of the other guys from Physics for a study group at midday, and I have to get some stuff ready.”

“Okay,” she whispered back. With his hair all messed up as Chat in a way Adrien’s seemed never to want to go, and his voice husky and lips red from kissing her, she was less than 100% focussed on what he was saying, but stood when he did to see him out to the balcony.

He gave her a searing kiss before opening the hatch, then paused.

“I stick labels and reminders on everything to pick up new vocab, by the way. If that helps,” he said. She blinked at the sudden change of pace but smiled in thanks. With a peck on her cheek, he hauled himself out the hole in the roof and was gone.

Marinette sighed, and then set about cutting up paper for cue cards to stick around the apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment any suggestions/requests you'd like to see as part of this fic. Thank you to everyone who showed support on Just A Touch!


End file.
